


Conflicted

by JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Awkward Tension, Bittersweet Ending, Blake has so many emotions but she has no idea why she’s feeling certain things, Character Study, F/F, Lack of Communication, Mutual Pining, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Yang tries to help to the best of her abilities, confused feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:06:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite/pseuds/JustSomeoneWhoLikesToWrite
Summary: When you’ve been running your entire life, it’s hard to just stop.Or a.k.a Blake is restless and Yang tries to figure out what’s wrong.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus (implied), Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long
Comments: 5
Kudos: 80





	Conflicted

Blake still wants to run sometimes.

It’s an itch beneath her skin, swollen between her ribs and pressing against her lungs until she can’t breathe, choking on the bitter weight of her mistakes. It’s engraved into her D.N.A, into her very being; it’s in the way her semblance leaves behind a shadow, a version of herself even she doesn’t want.

(She’s not used to this stability, this sense of _right_ , like she’s a puzzle piece that finally fits. Affection without penalties, where she’s accepted for who she is, not what she could be.

A team that has seen her at her absolute worst and somehow still _wants_ her, despite what she has done and could still do.)

And she’s _trying_ , she really is. She doesn’t want to disappoint her team, not abandon them again. She loves all of them in a way she thought she never could, loves them so much that she doesn’t want to know what it‘s like to live without them.

But, there’s this ugly feeling inside, lurking at the corners of her mind, that tells her to wait for the other shoe to drop. That something this nice can’t _last_. Not for someone like Blake.

(She has let her guard down before, cracked herself open and let the entirety of her being pour out. Exposed all her hopes and her fears and her desires. Showed him the lock and gave him the key and hoped for the best.

And look how well that turned out, huh?)

She _knows_ her team isn’t like that, not by a long shot. But the urge still pops up from time to time, when her thoughts become too much and her past is played on her eyelids; to just feel the wind in her hair, her legs and lungs burning as she races from tree to tree, only focused on moving forward.

It’s why Blake finds herself on the rooftop of Atlas Academy, breathing in the crisp night air. She’s in her pajamas, didn’t take Gambol Shroud with her and that’s a good thing. Because the temptation is right there with her, curling beneath her feet, popping on her tongue. But, she’s made a promise and she won’t leave. She’s _happy_ now and it makes it all the more infuriating when the urge hits, even though she plans on staying with them for as long as they’ll have her.

Old habits die hard, she thinks wryly.

There’s a noise behind her and Blake is whirling around, body automatically slipping into a fighting stance. There’s a body shadowed further back and her lips curl back from her teeth, ears flattening. She doesn’t have her weapon but she’s always been elusive, always been a fighter. Has people that she wants to protect.

“Whoa whoa! It’s just me, Blake!”

And it’s _Yang_ , stepping out of the shadows with both her hands up, the metal of her forearm glinting in the moonlight. She looks worried and Blake lets out a slow breath, forces her body to relax.

“Sorry- I just-“ Blake starts, ears drooping and fingers curled around her elbow, embarrassment twisting in her stomach, “ _Sorry_.”

But Yang shakes her head, arms back to her sides. She walks up to Blake with a steady gait, hair swaying softly behind her.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she says, “I shouldn’t of startled you like that.”

And then she softly smiles, one side of her mouth curling up and Blake’s stomach drops again for a completely different reason.

“W-what are you doing up here, by the way?” Blake says, eyes flitting around, the back of her neck red and Yang shrugs.

“I came here because of you,” she replies, simple and to the point, before her eyes widen and her face suddenly blazes red, like she just realized what she said; Blake isn’t any better, cheeks ruddy and ears quivering.

Yang sputters, waving her arms around.

“I- uh- what I meant to say was-“ she says, one hand behind her head, rocking a little on her feet, “I heard you get up and wanted to check on you. To see if you were alright.”

Blake looks away guiltily and Yang steps closer, lightly brushing her fingers against Blake’s bicep. Blake shivers, swaying into the touch.

“ _Are_ you alright?” Yang mumbles, gaze clear and bright, cheeks kissed with pink and she looks almost _ethereal_ with the pale glow of the night around her, the way it softens her edges; it makes Blake want to get _close_ , to press against her, to sink and drown in the entirety of Yang’s being until there was nothing left of herself.

(It makes Blake want to _flee_ , body too tight and too full, like she’s about to burst from her skin. She feels like she’s _suffocating_ , the weight of her feelings so heady that it sits heavy on the back of her tongue, threatens to burn her from the inside out. She _wants_ , in a way that’s both familiar and foreign.

It’s warmth and it’s danger. It’s too much and not enough. It’s not standing at the edge but having already jumped off, that moment of weightlessness, of suspense, before gravity catches up and her body _plummets_.

It’s only a matter of time before she hits the ground.)

Blake lets out a shaky breath, takes a step back. Yang’s hand hovers in the air between them.

“I’m fine,” Blake whispers and she doesn’t even believe herself.

And from the way Yang frowns, dropping her arm back to her side, she doesn’t either.

“ _That’s_ -“ she starts, takes a half-step forward before she abruptly stops herself, rakes her teeth against her bottom lip. She shifts in place and her gaze flicks to the ground, her body a line of tension.

When she finally raises her head to look at her, Blake sucks in a sharp breath. Because there’s a type of determination in Yang’s eyes, a type of fire, a look Blake has seen more than a dozen of times but one that never fails to take her breath away. It’s the look Yang gets when she’s using her semblance, all steely resolve and intense focus and simmering power.

“I don’t-“ Yang says, stepping forward until there’s just a small space between them, searching Blake’s face like it holds all the answers and Blake’s ears quiver, heart beating a staccato in her throat, “I don’t think that you _are_.” _  
_

And then Yang reaches a hand towards her, the right one, their end and their beginning, metal fingers hard and chilled and _gentle, so so gentle,_ as they push a piece of Blake’s hair to curl behind her ear. She looks at Blake like she hold the stars, like she’s something _precious_ and Blake trembles in the wake of it, chest tight and eyes prickling with heat. Yang absentmindedly thumbs at her earlobe and Blake’s breath stutters out of her, dizzy from her presence.

“ _Please_ ,” Yang whispers, tone small and a bit desperate, like Blake isn’t the only one falling apart, “ _Please_ don’t shut me out. You can tell me what’s wrong, you don’t have to bottle up what you’re feeling. Not to anyone and especially not to _me_.”

Blake averts her eyes but Yang doesn’t let her. She cups the back of Blake’s neck, brings her face forward. Presses her forehead against Blake’s and holds her gaze.

They’re so _close_ , breathing in each other's air, noses softly brushing together. It’s makes Blake feel off-balance, _exposed_ , like Yang can see past her skin and into her ugly insides, like she can see all of the dark and twisted bits and she isn’t ruffled by what’s there, like she’ll just _accept_ the whole of Blake without complaint or criticism and it’s too much, _it’s too much_ -

( _It’s not enough_ -)

”You don’t have to be alone anymore,” Yang whispers and Blake just _breaks_.

“ _Yang_ , I-I _can’t_ -“ Blake chokes, gasping and sobbing, curling her fingers into Yang’s shirt like an anchor, like a life-line but Yang just pulls her close, her grip tight, tucking Blake’s head into her neck, “I can’t, I can’t- I’m _sorry_ , _I’m sorry, I’m sorry_ -“ _  
_

Because how is she supposed to tell Yang about her relentless energy, her urge to run? The feeling that this is too good to be true, that she’s knows she bound to mess it up again. That she not _used_ to this, doesn’t know how to act when there’s people that genuinely care about her.

That she wants so _much_ , wants things that she probably doesn’t deserve, wants to take everything that Yang offers and then some, _still_ wants more after that. That she loves Yang so much that it _hurts_.

(How is she supposed to tell Yang that no matter how many times she washes her hands she can still see Adam’s blood on them, staining the pale skin of her palms like a brand, claiming her still even in his death?)

But Yang still continues to hold her, petting at her head and back, makes soothing noises.

“ _It’s okay, it’s okay_. You don’t have to apologize to me about this, _never_ about this,” Yang says, tone soft but firm and that only makes Blake cry harder, tears soaking into Yang’s shirt, “ _That’s it_ _that’s it_ , _let it all out_. It’s okay, _you’re_ okay. I’ve got you- I’ll always have you.”

They both slowly slide to the floor and lean against each other, legs tucked underneath their bodies. They stay like that for the rest of the night, the moment only between them and the broken moon, bathed in its pale light.

(Later, when Blake is calmed down and willing to show her face, Yang looks at her with soft determination.

“You don’t have to tell me anything right now,” she says, gently wiping at Blake’s tear-stained cheeks, touch almost _reverent_ and Blake’s eyelids flutter, shivering from head to toe, “But we’re going to need to talk about this. It doesn’t have to be now, but it _needs_ to happen.” _  
_

Blake nods, understands what needs to be done. But Yang shakes her head, kindly carding her fingers through Blake’s hair to push it away from her forehead.

“I’m gonna need your words, sweetness,” Yang murmurs and the wave of heat that goes through Blake at _that_ is something she doesn’t look to closely into.

“....We will,” Blake quietly croaks, throat raw and ragged and Yang runs a thumb down the column like she can soothe it, “We _will_.”

And then Blake grabs Yang’s hand, intertwining their fingers, squeezes their hold.

The way Yang squeezes back, smiling warmly at her, makes Blake feel like she can take on the world.)


End file.
